A Series of Blind Dates
by Jessika Organa Solo
Summary: When Ron gets back with Lavender, Hermione realizes that she needs help in the romance department. How many bad dates will she have to endure?
1. Being Stood Up

This story is totally unrelated to any of my other stories, including my other George and Hermione stories. The events in this story reflect everything JK wrote up to book 6. After that, the story follows my plot line. I don't own HP!

**Chapter 1: Being Stood Up**

If it hadn't been for Ron, Hermione wouldn't have been in this mess. Sure, his stupid ideas had gotten them into trouble before, but never had they landed Hermione a blind date with the person of Ron's choosing. Although, as Hermione readily admitted to Ginny, she had started it. You see, Ron had a girlfriend. A very attractive and familiar girlfriend. And Hermione hated it.

Hermione swore she wasn't in love with him, and Ginny would have believed her if Hermione hadn't openly admitted it recently at a party celebrating a key victory against the Death Eaters. Hermione had been crushed several minutes later when Ron showed up with the girl he'd been secretly dating for four months, Lavender Brown. "Lavender Brown!" Ginny could clearly remember hearing Hermione scream at her brother the next day. Ron hadn't understood why Hermione was so angry about his reunion with his "longtime love," as he had put it.

"Aren't you happy for me?" Ron had said, unaware of the fact that Hermione had just confessed her feelings for Ron to several of the Weasleys, including Fred and George. Hermione had remained silent, and Ron misinterpreted this as something else. "Oh, I get it… you're lonely! I'm going to set you up with someone… I'm sure I can find someone who is willing to go out on a date with you, Hermione!"

So, on a perfectly good Saturday night, Hermione found herself sitting alone at a table in the Leaky Caldron. Her date was at least a half an hour late by her watch, and it didn't look like he would be showing his face any time soon. The sweat on her butterbeer bottle dripped onto the table, creating a ring. Sighing, Hermione cleaned the ring with a flick of her wand. A ruckus at the door caused her to look up, but quickly, her hopes were dashed. Not only was it not her date, it was Fred and George Weasley, accompanied by a woman that she did not know. Hermione slid down in the booth, hoping to be ignored, but Fred strode right to her table, unknown woman on tow.

"Oi, Hermione! Your date stand you up?" Fred asked cheerfully, unaware of the arrangements that Ron had made.

"Actually, yes," she snapped, finishing her butterbeer in one chug, slamming it back down on the table, and standing up to leave. The shocked and regretful expression on Fred's face brought a chuckle to her lips, but she did not allow it to escape. She was glad that he looked insensitive in front of his female companion. As Hermione slipped between them to leave, George stepped in front of her.

"Now Hermione, we can't have you leaving here sober. Come sit with us and we'll make your night worthwhile," George said, steering her over to the bar. Hermione grudgingly climbed onto a stool, taking the butterbeer that George shoved in front of her. Fred and his female companion joined them at the bar, Fred's face still red.

"Hermione, this is Candace Mason. She was in my year," Fred said, gesturing to the woman who sat down next to Hermione. Hermione nodded in acknowledgement, taking a sip of her butterbeer. This night was getting worse by the minute. Fred and George launched into an hour long conversation on their new products, which would be debuted at their newly renovated Hogsmede location.

"Hermione, you really ought to stop over. We've got a few new love potions," Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You might be able to slip one to our dear little brother and make him forget about that annoying…" George began.

"…whining…"

"…simpering…"

"…baby talking…"

"…Lavender Brown," Fred and George finished in unison.

"Well, speak of the devil," Hermione said angrily, seeing Ron and Lavender slip into the pub, "You made me stay because you knew they were going to be here."

"Honestly, we didn't!" George said, standing up to follow Hermione, who was storming out the door of the pub.

"How'd the date go?" Ron called after her, Lavender giggling.

Just as she was about to disapperate back to her flat in London, George was able to catch up with Hermione, grabbing her arm. "Let go, George. I want to go home," she said, irritated yet resigned.

"Listen, why don't you let me set you up with someone? I know tons of eligible bachelors that you would love," George said, his grin impossible to resist. Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, thinking about Lavender hanging on Ron's arm, and the two of them thrashing about like eels as they used to do in 6th year.

She sighed and said, "Alright, fine."

"Really?" George said, clearly surprised.

"I've got to move on with my life, and I'm never going to meet anyone new unless I have some help," she said.

"You won't regret this, I promise! I'm going to find you a great bloke, just wait!" George said, slinging his arm around her shoulder.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione and George met for breakfast in Diagon Alley to discuss Hermione's preferred qualities in a man. George was holding a bright blue sugar quill, taking notes on a piece of parchment.

"…and eye color?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Honestly, I don't care. I just want someone who is interesting, brave, and intelligent enough to have a conversation with," Hermione sighed, buttering a piece of toast.

George took the toast out of her hand and took a bite before continuing, Hermione staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What about his career?" George continued, his voice muffled from the toast.

Buttering a piece of toast stolen from George's stack, Hermione shrugged. "I don't care, so long as he has a job," she replied, finally getting to eat a piece of toast.

"You're not giving me much to work with here," George said, studying the parchment, "But I think I have the perfect guy for you. I'll send you an owl tomorrow to set up the time and place, okay?"

Hermione nodded, knowing that she was making a huge mistake.

_To be continued…_


	2. The Guy with an Obsession

I've decided that most of these chapters are going to be pretty short and light. I don't want this to be an in depth angst story. Just about 6 or 7 chapters of humor and fluff would be good!

**Chapter 2: The Guy with an Obsession**

The following Friday, Hermione paced back and forth in her kitchen, checking her watch repeatedly. She was supposed to meet her date, Augustus, in Hogsmede, where they would be having dinner at an Italian restaurant and then visiting Fred and George's new store in Hogsmede. Hermione felt sick, like she needed to vomit. _This was a horrible idea! Horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE! Why did I let George do this to me?_ She pondered angrily, making circles around her kitchen. Spotting a picture of Ron waving at her happily from her mantle, Hermione picked up her wand and yelled "Bombarda!" After a loud boom, the picture lay on the floor, singed and smoking. "Stupid git," she mumbled, flicking her wand to repair the damaged wall.

She disapperated, arriving at the restaurant at the pre-arranged time. Augustus was supposed to be carrying a red rose, according to George, but Hermione did not see a short, younger guy with a rose. Hermione sighed and flopped down on a bench outside the restaurant, not caring if she was dirtying her robes. _Great, stood up again. What is wrong with me? Do I smell?_ She pondered, considering smelling her underarms covertly. Just as she was about to lean down and take a sniff, a mildly attractive man with a red rose walked nervously to the door of the restaurant. _Okay, maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all,_ Hermione thought, a smile crossing her face.

"Augustus?" Hermione asked as the man began to open the door.

"Hermione?" he said, turning to look at her. She smiled and nodded.

"What a pleasure to meet you," he said, taking her hand and kissing it before handing her the rose. A blush crept into Hermione's cheeks as Augustus moved to open the door for her.

They were seated at a quiet table as candles floated around them. A wizard sang softly in the corner. "George hasn't told me much about you," Hermione said, turning on her charm. The longer she looked at him, the cuter he was.

"There isn't much to tell…" he said, pausing to take a drink of water, "but George has told me loads about you. How you are friends with Harry Potter, and how you were there with him most of the times that he met You-Know-Who, and that you've known him since he first started at Hogwarts." Hermione was a little perplexed, but she allowed him to be starstruck about Harry for a few moments, hoping the conversation would move on to something else.

But by dessert, Augustus was still at it. "And I've heard he's back together with Ginny Weasley. Is that true? Are they going to be married? The Daily Prophet said he's in Auror training. Is he doing well? I'm sure he's going to be the best Auror that the Ministry has seen. Is it really true that he is the Chosen One? I think that's got to be really hard, knowing that you are the only one who can defeat You-Know-Who…" he babbled as Hermione played with her pudding.

"Look, Augustus," Hermione said, interrupting him, "I'm not feeling too well. I think I'm going to have to skip the trip to Fred and George's and head home." He looked severely disappointed, and stood to walk her out, laying down a few galleons for the check.

"I had a great time," Augustus said, leaning in to kiss Hermione on the cheek as they stood in front of the restaurant.

"Er, me too," she said, stumbling over her words as she tried to avoid his kiss.

As he walked away to disapperate, Hermione wondered how the date had gone so horribly wrong. _Never have I had anyone want to date me purely because I was friends with Harry Potter,_ she thought, amused and angry at the same time. Shaking her head, she walked down the road to Fred and George's new shop to give George the play by play on the date.

Fred gave her a wolf whistle as she stomped into the shop, a smile missing from her face. "Blimey, Fred, who's that smoking hot chick that just walked through the door?" George teased, pretending to drop the box that he was carrying.

"Can it," Hermione commanded, still not smiling.

"What did you do with Aggie? Ditch him?" Fred said, walking toward Hermione.

"George, I thought you said you were good at matchmaking…" Hermione began, proceeding to tell the twins about the horrible date.

"…so he just kept asking about Harry? How strange…" George said, leaning over the front counter to talk to Hermione. Fred was stocking a shelf nearby, joining in on the conversation.

Hermione shook her head. "The whole entire night…" she said, leaning against a shelving unit.

Fred cursed, causing Hermione to look up. Augustus had just walked into the shop. "Quick! Hide me!" Hermione said, running behind the counter.

"Under here!" George said, pushing her under the counter.

"Hey, Aggie, where's Hermione?" Fred asked, trying hard to pretend that Hermione wasn't under the counter.

"Oh, she wasn't feeling too well. She decided to go home," Augustus said, reminding Hermione of a Muggle cartoon character, Eeore.

"How did it go?" George asked, nudging Hermione with his leg to keep her quiet.

"It went really well! I think she likes me," Augustus said, examining a Skiving Snackbox. George nudged Hermione again after hearing a snort from under the counter. "Well, see you two later, and thanks again, George," Augustus continued, walking out of the shop with a wave.

George bent down to look under the counter at Hermione, his face red from holding back his laughter. He had never seen Hermione so angry, which made him want to laugh even more. "What are you doing tomorrow night?" George asked, knowing she would blow up.

"Oh, no! I am not going on another date with him or anyone else. I need at least a week to recover from that!" she ranted, standing up and brushing off her robes.

"No, Mum wants you to come 'round for dinner tomorrow. Bill and Fleur are going to be in town," George said, returning to stocking the shelves with Fred.

"And no, Won-Won isn't going to be there," Fred added, knowing she would refuse if Lavender or Ron were going to be present.

"Alright, what time?" she said, gloomily.

"Dinner starts at 6," George said, handing her a Skiving Snackbox, "And next time you need to get out of a date, use one of these."

* * *

The early summer heat wrapped around Hermione's body as she walked up the path to the Burrow, her sandals making a flipping sound with every step she took. George glanced up from the kitchen sink where he was peeling potatoes, the Wizarding Wireless blaring in the background and his mother singing along from the next room. _Since when did Hermione Granger become sexy?_ George asked himself, shaking his head and looking back down at the potatoes.

"So, who is the next date?" Fred said, stepping into the kitchen and seeing Hermione walking up the long drive.

"Well, I was thinking about Marcus Diggle, the guy we know from the Ministry," George said, wiping his hands on a towel.

"But he's such a nerd!" Fred laughed, helping his brother with the potatoes.

"Well, it's worth a shot. Besides, Hermione is a nerd too," George replied.

"Yes… a very hot nerd," Fred chuckled, looking back down the path as Hermione approached the house.

_To be continued…_


	3. The Nerd

Thanks for all of the reviews! I hope I'm putting in enough detail. I don't want these chapters to be huge, so I think the story may be going a little fast sometimes.

**Chapter 3: The Nerd**

George had convinced her to give him another chance at matchmaking, so Hermione was pulling on a set of dark blue robes in the early evening of a sweltering Saturday. She tapped her hair a few times with her wand to get it just right, twisting it up upon her head, knowing that the humidity outside was going to turn her hair into a bushy mess if she left it down.

She had suggested the same Italian restaurant. In typical Hermione fashion, she had wanted to turn the dates into controlled experiments, making the guy the only variable in the experiment. This time, her date was waiting for her in the lobby, also carrying a red rose for identification. Pasting a smile on her face she thought to herself, _Oh no… he's a nerd!_

"Hermione?" he asked, pushing his glasses farther up his nose.

"Hello," she said, extending her hand to shake his, "You must be Marcus."

"Indeed, I am," the young man said, a giggle escaping his lips.

"So, what do you do for a living, Marcus?" Hermione asked as the waiter left to bring them their drinks. As he launched into a long explanation about his research at the ministry, all Hermione heard was, "blah blah blah Dark Arts, blah blah blah Ministry, blah blah blah, blah blah blah…" She almost didn't notice when he asked her about her own career.

"Oh, um, I'm in training to be a Healer," she said. Knowing it would start another intellectual conversation, she tried not to roll her eyes.

"Wow! George told me that you were the smartest witch or wizard he knew, and you really must be if you're going to be a Healer!" he said, causing Hermione to blush. "So," he continued, "What are your views on combining Muggle and Magical medicine? Being Muggle born, you must have an interesting view on it…"

To her surprise, the night actually got better. Marcus knew quite a bit about Italian culture, and was explaining the origin of Hermione's meal as she ate. Hermione found herself being drawn into the conversation, asking him more questions and actually paying attention to the answers. Towards the end of the meal, the conversation turned to books.

"My favorite has always been Hogwarts: A History," Marcus said, laying his napkin back on the table.

Hermione gasped and excitedly said, "Mine too! I've read it at least a hundred times!"

"You probably had all of your textbooks read before the term started, didn't you?" Marcus asked, smiling.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and said, "I'm guessing you did too, correct?"

"Of course!" he said, smiling. They stared at each other happily for a few seconds before Marcus reached across the table to take Hermione's hand.

Expecting sparks, Hermione was sadly disappointed. She looked back at him, once again plastering a fake smile on her face as he squeezed her hand. She then realized that she was not physically attracted to him what-so-ever. It was as if she was holding hands with Harry or Neville.

"Fancy a walk?" Marcus said, pulling out several galleons and handing them to the waiter.

"Sure," Hermione shrugged, hoping that a romantic walk might convince her body to be attracted to him.

He offered her his arm as they exited the Italian restaurant in Hogsmeade. "It's a wonderful night, isn't it?" he asked her, smiling at her before returning his eyes to the night sky. As they strolled, they named the constellations that they recognized, spending almost an hour looking for planets. Hermione became quieter as they looped around Hogsmeade, returning to the front of the restaurant.

"I had a great time with you tonight," Marcus said, placing his hands on Hermione's shoulders.

"Me too," she said, smiling slightly.

"Can I floo you sometime?" he asked shyly.

"Sure," she said, actually meaning it; he was great for a conversation.

As he leaned in to kiss her on the mouth, Hermione had to stop herself from moving away. She allowed him to kiss her, confirming what she had already known: she was not attracted to him.

He offered to accompany her to her flat to ensure that she got home safely, but she politely refused, saying she had promised Fred and George that she would visit their shop before she returned home. He bid her goodbye, kissing her on the cheek just before disapperating. She sighed and turned toward the road, heading to 3W: Hogsmeade.

The moment she stepped into the shop, Fred and George cheered. "We were watching you lot kiss! How did it go?" Fred said before noticing the sad look on Hermione's face.

"It was great," she said, walking behind the counter and sitting down at George's desk.

"Well then why so sad?" George asked, pulling over another chair to sit down for a chat.

"He was smart, he was polite, he sounds successful, but I'm just not attracted to him. The kiss was almost bordering on gross. It was like I was kissing Neville," Hermione groaned, covering her face with her hands. Fred looked at George and shrugged. It was strange for them to see a girl who was moping since Ginny usually punched someone when she was upset about something.

"Well, I've got another guy in mind for you, if you want to try again," George said, placing his hand on her shoulder. A strange feeling crept up his arm, but he attributed it to the Tingling Taffy that he and Fred had been testing. Hermione looked up at him strangely for a moment before nodding.

"Alright, then your next date is with Draco Malfoy!" George said, smirking.

"No!" Hermione shrieked, whacking George with her hand as both he and Fred laughed hysterically.

"Just kidding! It's really with You-Know-Who!" Fred said, laughing more.

"You two are awful," Hermione said, trying not to smile, but not succeeding.

"You know you love us," George said, laughing.

"Meet us for lunch tomorrow, we'll cheer you up," Fred said, slinging his arm around Hermione's shoulder as he walked her to the door.

"Alright, I'll be here at noon," she said, finally smiling, "Thanks for the matchmaking. I really do appreciate it."

They watched her disapperate and then turned to return to work. "I think we may need to adjust the Tingling Taffy. I don't think it has worn off on me yet," George said, shaking his arm.

* * *

Hermione watched George ring up customers as she waited on the twins for lunch. After ringing up several Skiving Snackboxes, George called out to the back, "Fred, I'm leaving for lunch! I'll be back soon!"

"Fred's not coming?" Hermione asked, following George out of the shop.

"Verity called in sick today, so Fred volunteered to stay while I went to lunch with you," George said, unbuttoning his magenta robes because of the heat. He shucked the heavy robes to reveal a t-shirt and slacks underneath.

"We could have done it another day, when you weren't so busy and short handed," Hermione said, immediately feeling bad. She hadn't realized that 3W would be so busy on a Sunday.

"No, it's fine," George said, waving his hand, "How does Rupert's sound? They have great sandwiches."

"Sure. I've never been there," Hermione said, looking around for the restaurant.

"Well, you're in for a treat!" George said, linking his arm through hers and pulling her along as he skipped down the lane to the busy little shop.

"One check or two?" the frazzled waitress said after taking their order.

"One," George said, cutting off Hermione. The waitress nodded and walked away before Hermione could correct her.

"George…" Hermione said, frowning, "I should be buying your lunch as thanks for the matchmaking."

"Oh, forget about it. If our little brother wasn't such a stupid prat, he'd realize what he was missing and dump that stupid Lavender Brown," George said, forcefully tearing the paper off his straw.

"I don't want to talk about it…" Hermione said, concentrating on her own straw paper.

"I'm sorry," George said, pausing for a moment, "Do you want to hear a funny story?"

"Sure," Hermione said, looking up at him and smiling slightly.

"Okay, so Fred and I were testing out this new product of ours…" George began.

Unbeknownst to them, Fred, Ginny, and Harry were huddled at the window of Rupert's, watching George and Hermione. "Now do you believe me?" Fred said, looking over at his sister.

"I had my doubts…" Ginny said, watching as Hermione laughed, throwing her head back as George continued to talk, gesturing wildly.

"That prat… he's telling the story about me peeing my pants…" Fred mumbled.

_To be continued…_


	4. The Pretty One

Oh so very predictable, but oh so fun!

**Chapter 4: The Pretty One**

_Ooohhh, you're kidding me. This is my date? He is here to go on a date with ME? Ohhhh, he's soooo… pretty,_ Hermione thought, forcing herself to refrain from sighing aloud as she made her way to the handsome man who was sitting on the bench outside of the Italian restaurant, holding a rose. "You must be Hermione," he said smoothly, offering the rose to her.

"And you're Dylan, correct?" Hermione said, trying very hard not to giggle. Was it possible that he was part Veela? Were there male Veela? As he opened the door for her, she unbuttoned one of the buttons on her robes, revealing the little cleavage that she had. She was going to need to be exceptionally charming to secure another date with this guy.

"So, George told me that you are a Quidditch player. What team do you play for?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of water to cool herself.

"Well, I played for the Cannons last year, but my agent feels that I could be with better teammates if I were to play for the Harpies, so we're currently undergoing trade talks," he said, sounding bored.

"What about you?" he said as an afterthought.

"Oh, I'm in training to be a Healer," she said proudly.

"That sounds interesting," Dylan said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Uhh… yeah, it is," Hermione said, slightly perplexed.

"Oh my gosh, are you Dylan Fannon from the Cannons?" the waitress said, pausing to stare at him.

"I sure am," he said, turning on his charm. Hermione frowned as the waitress hurried off for a quill.

"So, you're a beater, right?" Hermione asked, hoping he would turn his attention back to her.

"What? Are you talking to me?" he said, acting as if he were surprised to see her there.

"Yes, I was talking to you, you arse!" Hermione said, standing up. Dylan ignored her as he autographed the waitress's breast, but glanced back in time to see Hermione toss her glass of wine in his face.

"These are silk robes!" he yelled, standing up and attempting to blot the wine stains appearing on his pale blue robes.

"Aww… here, let me help you!" Hermione said sarcastically, flicking her wand to produce an ice cold fountain of water, covering both Dylan and the waitress, who was now trying to help Dylan clean his robes.

"Never again!" She yelled, stomping out of the restaurant and disapperating, not even bothering to stop by 3W.

Collapsing into her bed, she angrily punched the pillows until the long awaited tears came.

* * *

"Hermione? Hermione! Hermione, open the door!" George yelled from the hallway, pounding on the door to her flat. In mid pound, the door opened a crack, and a red-eyed, disheveled Hermione peeked into the hallway. "Come on, let me in," George said, putting his hand on the door.

She stepped back to allow him inside, but didn't speak, her head pounding too hard for sentence formation. "Hermione… did you drink all of this?" George asked, looking around her living room to see several Firewhiskey bottles and a couple bottles that he assumed were from Muggle alcohol. Hermione didn't answer, but flopped down on the couch, pulling a blanket over her head to shield herself from the light pouring past the curtains.

George tentatively sat down beside her on the couch, regarding her sympathetically. Sighing, he said, "Ginny told you, didn't she?" When Hermione didn't answer, he assumed the affirmative. "I'm really sorry, Hermione… I didn't want you to find out this way. I knew you would be upset. I know Ginny is your friend, but I… I just wanted you to hear it from me," he continued, forcing himself to stop talking.

Slowly, Hermione pulled the blanket away to reveal her very confused and very pale face. "What the hell are you on about?" she grumbled, looking at him.

"You mean, you don't know?" George said, his eyes widening, "I thought that's why you'd gotten drunk and everything…"

"No, you prat. I drank myself sick because you picked the worst guy ever for me to date. He signed the waitress's tits, for heaven's sake!" Hermione screeched, angrily pushing George, "Now what are you talking about?"

"Hermione…" George began, "They're getting married."

"Who, the waitress and Dylan? That explains a lot…" Hermione said, grumpily turning away.

"No, Hermione," George continued softly, "Lavender and Ron. They're engaged."

Hermione remained silent for a moment before standing up, almost falling back into the couch before wrenching her arm out of George's hand and stomping to the kitchen. George heard a couple bangs and a clank, so he followed her into the kitchen, seeing her leaning back against the countertop, a meade bottle held vertically over her head, the golden liquid pouring into her mouth at an alarming rate. "Oh no you don't!" George said, rushing forward to stop her. She pushed him away forcefully, spilling the rest of the meade on the floor, the bottle shattering on the counter. They both paused, stunned by the sound of breaking glass. However, Hermione's silence quickly dissolved into tears and then sobs. "Come on," George said, half exasperated, half heartbroken at the sound of her tears. He led her back to the living room and onto the couch.

"Why does it hurt like this? I hate him!" she said, clutching a pillow.

"It's hard to let go sometimes," George said, concern in his eyes as he watched her wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"No, it's because I'm afraid that… that I'm never going to get married," she said quietly, as if she had suddenly come to that realization, "The only person who liked me was the nerd," She sobbed, drawing out the word "nerd" so that it seemed even more pitiful.

"Oh, Hermione, that's not true," George said, almost laughing, "You're going to get married some day. You just haven't found the right person."

"What if I don't?" she cried, her head falling into George's chest. George awkwardly patted the top of her head for a moment, which seemed to make her cry more.

_Oh, screw it_, he thought, pulling her close enough for him to wrap his arms around her. _Why do I have to be attracted to my brother's could- have-been girlfriend at a time like this?_ George asked himself, Hermione sobbing into his chest.

"No more blind dates… I'm swearing off men," she wailed, pulling herself closer to him.

To be continued…


	5. A New Matchmaker

_I had meant to upload Chapter 4 sooner, but FF wasn't taking my documents a couple of days ago. But all is well now. _

_And I'm sorry about the short chapters. I know you want longer ones because you want to read more of the story, but this is a story for which writing long chapters is difficult. I'm not sure why, because normally my chapters are pretty long if appropriate. I guess they are short because this story was a spur of the moment idea for me and didn't have months of development in my head. I'll try to make chapter 6 long because it's going to be a really good one. And maybe I can go back and add to the older chapters if I ever get the chance._

_If you want to read one of mine with really long chapters, try my "A Chi_ _Town_ _Romance" if you like The Mighty Ducks._

_Anyways, on to Chapter 5…_

**Chapter 5: A New Matchmaker**

Hermione spent the next miserable week confining her activities to work and moping. George had owled her several times with offers of lunch or dinner with the twins, but she turned them all down. Ginny, having heard about Hermione's bender the preceding weekend, made it a point to stop over at Hermione's flat several times that week. But none of it made a bit of difference.

Again, wasting a perfectly good Friday night, Hermione sat in the corner of the large, squishy couch in the living room of the Burrow. Her eyes watched the golden liquid in her glass slosh as she forced herself to slow down. She wouldn't want to get drunk in front of all of the party guests, most of whom were so busy celebrating Ron and Lavender's engagement that they didn't even notice Hermione's vacant expression and bloodshot eyes. Hermione watched Ron and Lavender through the meade in her glass, making them pleasantly distorted. _That's the best Lavender has looked all year_, Hermione thought, giggling to herself.

"Budge up, love," Fred said, tapping Hermione on the leg. Lethargically, she stood up to allow Fred to sit on her left and George to sit on her right.

"Twin sandwich," she said softly, smiling a little.

"Now if you're interested in a _real_ twin sandwich—" Fred began, but was cut off by George.

"No, Hermione doesn't want a _real_ twin sandwich," George said, air quoting. Couldn't Fred see that she was upset over Ron? Honestly, his twin was so insensitive sometimes.

"Let's talk about your love life, dear," Fred said, putting his arm around Hermione's shoulders, which were covered only by tank top straps. Hermione frowned, but didn't stop Fred from going on. "Now, we know that you're pretty down because of our dear little brother, but I've got a plan that will have you engaged in 6 months or less. What do you say?"

Hermione frowned skeptically and said, "I don't know. Besides, no more blind dates."

"Oh, but these blind dates will be quality guys, unlike the ones my dear twin picked out for you," Fred said.

Hermione looked at George for a second before saying, "Really, I'm fine. I'll be okay being by myself for a while." It wasn't that George's choices of dates had been bad… in fact, she could tell that he had listened to her very closely and actually knew her quite well. She didn't want to insult George by firing him as her matchmaker, even if she had sworn off men.

"Oh, come on, Hermione… you're lonely! Everyone can tell!" Fred continued, his voice rising slightly.

"She said no, Fred. Don't you know what no means?" George said angrily, getting up and walking into the kitchen. A few seconds later, Hermione heard the screen door slam shut.

Fred sighed. "He's been a bit moody today. He'll get over it," Fred said, shrugging, "Now, I'll give you a couple of hours to decide about letting me be your matchmaker. But let me know before you leave. I already have a great idea for a date for you tomorrow night."

"Okay," Hermione said, only half listening. For some reason, she really wanted to follow George out into the yard. She wasn't sure why, but him being upset was making her be upset.

* * *

She found him sitting on the picnic table, leaning back against the table and watching the lightning bugs as they hovered over the garden. The garden gnomes were jumping up and down, attempting to catch the lightning bugs. "Strange little buggers," George said, knowing that Hermione was standing behind him, watching him. Hermione silently walked around the table and brushed off the seat, sitting down next to him.

"You okay?" She asked softly after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I guess I'm just feeling like you… wondering if I'm ever going to get married," George pondered, his gaze moving up to the sky.

"Of course you will. You just need to find the right woman. One who won't make you change too much," Hermione said, chuckling.

"I'm still young, I suppose. But my brother always has a girlfriend, and I'm never dating anyone!" he said, exasperated.

"Well, if your brother is always dating someone, then at least you know it isn't your appearance," Hermione said, frowning.

"True," George said, pausing for a second. Was Hermione saying that she thought her appearance was the problem? Pushing the thought away, George continued, "But it's still pretty bad if I have a crap personality."

"You don't have a crap personality," Hermione said, finding her fingernails very interesting, "Maybe you just sometimes don't appear that you want to be in a serious relationship. And neither does your brother. I mean look at the girls he dates. None of those relationships seem to give off the 'I want to make babies with you' kind of vibe."

"Eh, maybe," George considered, trying not to laugh.

"Do you?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Do I what?" He replied.

"Want to be in a serious relationship," she added, looking over at him, regarding him closely.

"Honestly, I don't know. I guess it would depend on if I met a woman that I fell in love with," he said, looking back at her. _What a strange question…_ he thought.

They were silent for another several minutes before Hermione yawned. "Well, I'm going to go inside and say goodbye to everyone," she said, standing up and turning to walk back to the house.

"Hermione?" George said, stopping her, "Um… are you free for lunch tomorrow?"

Turning around, she smiled and said, "Sure. Meet you at 3W in Hogsmeade?"

"We're back in Diagon Alley this week. Meet me there at noon," he said, smiling, "See you then."

"Bye," she added, watching George turn his eyes back up to the stars.

* * *

"Okay, go ahead," Hermione reluctantly said to Fred, who was downing a butterbeer. She cringed at the excited reaction she knew would come.

"Really? I can fix you up? Wicked!" he said, shaking her shoulders.

"So, tomorrow night?" She said, unsure of what she was getting herself into. She trusted George, but Fred was a little crazy.

"Yes, 8 o'clock. Meet him at that new pub that just opened up in Diagon Alley. He will be carrying a white rose, and you should carry a red one so that he can find you," Fred said, slinging his arm around her shoulders again.

"Okay," she said, trying to keep the negativity out of her voice.

"Cheer up, Hermione. It can't be any worse than the other blind dates you've had!" Fred said, grinning cheekily.

"Thanks, Fred. That's reassuring," she grumbled, making her way to the back door to disapperate to her flat.

_To be continued…_


	6. When We Were Dancing

I'm really sorry it took so long! The time just got away from me!

Anyways, here it is… a new chapter! No real fluff, but don't expect that to last long. I've got the writing bug again and my writer's block is gone, at least for this story, so you should expect another chapter relatively soon.

**Chapter 6: When We Were Dancing**

George's eyes scanned the pub. _Why did I let him talk me into this?_ George thought, looking down at the stupid rose that his twin had told him to carry. George had finally grudgingly agreed to let Fred fix him up with someone. Fred had promised that George wouldn't regret it and that he had the perfect date for him.

Not seeing a girl carrying her own rose, George sat down at one of the few empty booths and watched the lively couples dancing on the dance floor. This pub was more like a dancing club than a bar, but Diagon Alley needed something different. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it still wasn't 8 o'clock. He had been so anxious to leave that he left early; Fred was driving him crazy and he couldn't stand one more second in their flat with him.

George ordered a butterbeer and sipped it slowly, his stomach full of butterflies. Smiling to himself, he wondered what Luna Lovegood would say had invaded his stomach. Just as his brain was taking him through the memories of four years ago, the last year that he and Fred were at Hogwarts, he heard a pair of heels clunking on the thick wooden floor of the pub. He ignored the sound until it stopped directly in front of his booth.

Looking up from his bottle, he almost burst out laughing at the sight. A gorgeous Hermione Granger stood in front of him, clutching her purse and a red rose, a smirk on her face. They both stared at each other for a second before Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "Well, sit down," George said, himself laughing.

"Your brother…" she said smiling, shaking her head.

"Is a git," George finished for her, smiling and handing her a drink menu.

Hermione smiled at him across the table as she sipped the drink that the waiter had brought to her a few minutes earlier. The entire situation was humorous and not awkward in the least bit. "I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from my brother. He's always meddling in people's lives," George said, turning the butterbeer bottle in his fingers as he looked at Hermione.

"Well, I think we should just go ahead and have ourselves a great night with each other," Hermione said, pulling off the dangling earrings that she had been wearing. "Those were bothering me," she said, smiling slightly sheepishly.

"Well, are you hungry? We could go around the corner and grab a bite to eat," George suggested.

"I'm not really hungry. I'm still a little worked up from being nervous," she said, taking another sip of her drink, "We can stay here. This looks like a fun place. I haven't seen any place in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade that had music and dancing!"

"You don't strike me as the kind of person who likes to cut loose on the dance floor, but I've been wrong about you before…" George said, passing his empty bottle to the waiter and taking a new one.

"No, you're right this time. I'm usually not into dancing, but I'm also usually not on a date with a Weasley twin. Besides, this drink is strong enough to turn me into a dancer," she laughed, beginning to feel the weight of the last few days lifting from her shoulders. George smiled back at her and she noticed his blue eyes as they sparkled in the dim light of the pub. Ron's were blue also, but it was a different kind of blue. Ron's were dark blue and serious, at times filled with anger and at other times filled with fear. She had spent so many nights thinking about those eyes that she had memorized them. But George's eyes… well, they were light blue, almost grey. Hermione studied them intently for a few seconds before George waved his hand in front of her face.

"Wake up, Hermione," he said, chuckling.

Her face turning beet red, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about…" She stopped before the word "Ron" came out of her mouth, but she was afraid that he knew what she was going to say.

"It's okay," he said, "All of us Weasleys… well, we look the same. I know what you were thinking about."

"I'm sorry. I'm getting over him, but it's hard," she said, her throat tightening. She quickly took a large gulp of her drink, burning her throat, causing her to cough.

"You okay?" George said, trying not to laugh at her. She nodded, taking another drink. "Are you drunk enough to dance, now?" he continued and she rolled her eyes, smiling.

"Alright, come on," she said, playful exasperation in her voice as she stood up and adjusted her skirt.

"Is this a muggle song?" George asked her loudly as they slowly weaved their way between the tables and people.

"No, it's the wizarding version of a muggle song. The band, Black Eyed Peas, has a witch in it. Fergie, she's a witch," Hermione called back to him.

The dance floor was a lot more tightly packed than they had originally thought. George and Hermione had to stay very close together to keep from being bumped apart by the bouncing crowd. "This place is mad!" George said, leaning close to Hermione as a loud song played over the magical speakers. She nodded, stumbling toward him slightly after being run into by a drunken witch who was dancing crazily. George reached out his hands to catch her, stopping her from falling forward.

"Sorry!" she said to him, glancing back at the intoxicated witch, noticing that the witch looked familiar. "That's Pansy Parkinson," she said to George, trying not to be overheard by the witch.

Unfortunately, Pansy heard her and whipped around. "Granger, is that you?" Pansy said, her face sweaty and her mascara in circles around her eyes, "Boy, you sure like your Weasleys, don't you? First Ron, now Fred or George or whoever the hell he is. I heard Ron's marrying Lavender Brown. I knew he'd never want to marry a buck toothed bitch like you."

Hermione silently stared at Pansy, not knowing what to say but not wanting to say nothing. George, however, beat her to it. "So, what ever happened to your Death Eater boyfriend? Oh, that's right… how could I have forgotten? Harry Potter captured him and he's now in Azkaban with his father!" Pansy made an angry face and pulled on the arm of the man that had continued grinding on her throughout the whole conversation. Pansy stormed out of the pub, stumbling as she went.

Hermione and George stared at each other for a few seconds, neither sure of what to say to the other. "Do you want to go?" George asked awkwardly as a slow song started and the people on the dance floor coupled up.

Hermione shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. George guided her into his arms and they swayed to the music, Hermione fighting back the tears and George clearing his mind of the intense anger he was feeling. George felt her shoulders shake and knew that she was crying, so he tightened his arms around her as she gasped air.

Always arriving at the most inconvenient time, Fred stood just inside the doorway of the pub, his eyes searching for his twin. "There he is," Ginny whispered, pointing to the dance floor.

"Are he and Hermione…" Harry asked, his voice drowned out by a loud group of girls walking by.

"I can't tell," Ginny replied, standing up on her tiptoes to see over the crowd, "But we had better get out of here before they see us."

"Agreed," Fred said, "But at least now, we know for sure. There's something going on between those two…"

* * *

Feeling better after her cry, Hermione and George, several drinks later, were back on the dance floor, moving to the beat of the music. The later it got, the more slow songs the DJ played. However, Hermione and George sang drunkenly to the music and made fun of the couples who were dancing closely and seriously. "Look at those two… I bet they're going to have a dirty shag after this is over," George whispered to her as she tilted back her glass, still dancing.

"No, I don't think so. I think he wants to have a shag with her, but she doesn't look like she's into it," Hermione pointed out, nodding to the girl.

George studied the girl as he drank more of his butterbeer and, after noticing something, almost spit out a mouthful of the sticky drink. "Then why, dear Hermione, does she have her hand down his pants?"

Hermione gasped, scandalized, but then burst into giggles, placing her hand on George's shoulder to steady herself. "I guess I'm not too good at reading people, huh?" she said, setting her empty glass down on a nearby table.

"You want another?" George asked, pointing to her glass.

Shaking her head, she said, "I really better be getting home. I have a lot of studying to do tomorrow to catch up before class on Monday."

"I'll apperate with you to make sure you get home okay," George said as they walked back to their table to get her purse. George laid several galleons down on the table to cover their drinks and the tip and then followed Hermione out of the pub.

With a pop, they both arrived in her apartment's living room. George saw medical books strewn all over the floor and parchment stacked on the coffee table. Hermione smiled sheepishly and said, "It's a little messy."

"Believe me, this is nothing compared to my flat," he laughed.

"Well, I had a great time tonight. We're going to have to kill your brother sometime soon, but I'm glad that you were my blind date," Hermione chuckled, tossing her purse down on the coffee table.

"Same here," George said, reaching out to hug her.

They shared a friendly hug and she gave him a happy peck on the cheek and smiled as he walked toward the door.

"Can I take you to lunch tomorrow for a study break?" he asked suddenly, his hand on the door.

She paused for a second. Was this going to be a second date? That same smirk appeared on her face and she nodded. "Be here at noon," she said.

With a smile and a pop, he was gone, but only until tomorrow.

To be continued…


	7. The Weasley One

**Chapter 7: The Weasley One**

Ginny apperated into Hermione's apartment around 10 am the morning after the blind date with George, hoping to get the lowdown on the entire night. Being one of her best friends, Ginny was able to apperate directly into Hermione's apartment. "Hermione?" Ginny called, walking through the living room. Ginny heard Hermione's voice coming from the bathroom, so she walked down the hall to the only bathroom in the one bedroom apartment.

"Here's to the liars and the cheaters and the cold mistreaters/To the mama's boys who can't make a stand/Here's to the superficial players/The I love you too soon sayers/If you hear me girls, then raise your hand/Let's have a toast/Here's to finding a good man!" Hermione belted as she slathered conditioner on her hair. She wasn't sure why, but she was in the best mood she'd been in for months. She had managed to wake herself up at 8 am and get in two solid hours of studying for her Poisonous Potions exam on Wednesday. After lunch with George, she would study the rest of the evening for her Abnormal Anatomy practical exam on Tuesday.

"Hermione?" Ginny called again, turning the knob on the bathroom door.

"Ginny, is that you?" Hermione called, the shower still running.

The steam enveloped Ginny as she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. "Yeah, it's me," she said, trying not to burst out laughing, "You seem like you're in a good mood."

"Oh, was I singing that loudly?" Hermione laughed, rinsing her hair.

"Yes, but it's alright. You're not _that_ dreadful." The girls giggled and Hermione shut off the shower.

"Hand me that towel, would you?" Hermione said, sticking her dripping arm outside of the shower curtain to take the fluffy towel that Ginny handed to her.

Wrapped in her towel, Hermione walked back to her room, Ginny following behind her. "So, tell me about your blind date! What was he like?" Ginny asked, trying to sound as if she didn't know that Hermione had gone out with George.

"You know exactly what he was like," Hermione said, turning around to face Ginny, "I know that Fred has told you by now that he tricked George and me into going on a date with each other."

"Okay, I did know…" Ginny admitted, "So, how did it go? Obviously pretty well if you're this happy."

"You know, I'm not really sure why I'm so happy…" Hermione said, glancing at her reflection in the mirror.

"You like him, that's why you're so happy," Ginny said, flopping down on Hermione's bed.

"Mmm… I don't think so. I don't know," Hermione said, her voice slightly muffled as she walked into her closet.

"Well, I know that you're going out with him again today," Ginny said.

"How did you know that? Did George tell you?" Hermione asked, scurrying out of the closet.

"No, lucky guess. You just confirmed it for me," Ginny said, smiling mischievously. Hermione simply frowned in reply, throwing a dirty shirt at Ginny.

They were silent for several minutes as Hermione got dressed and waved her wand over her hair to dry it. "Well, did you talk to George?" Hermione asked, trying to sound cool and totally uninterested.

Ginny, of course, saw straight through her and burst out in laughter.

* * *

Humming happily to himself, George brushed his teeth at the bathroom sink while Fred banged on the door. "I need to use the loo, you prat. Let me in!" Fred yelled.

"Nope, sorry. You tricked Hermione and me yesterday, so you deserve to pee your pants again," George said calmly, smiling at himself in the mirror.

"You should be thanking me! I saw you two dancing last night," Fred yelled angrily, instantly knowing that he shouldn't have said that.

"You WHAT?" George yelled, whipping open the door to the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth, "I'm going to kill you! You spied on us!"

"So did Ginny and Harry!" Fred said defensively, backing up. Eyeing George for a second, he made a dive for the bathroom door but was caught by his twin.

"You're going to pay for this, my dear twin," George said, grabbing his wand from the dresser.

* * *

Hermione turned on the Wizarding Wireless to hear some music while Ginny did her hair. "Why are you so nervous?" Ginny asked, running her wand over a handful of Hermione's hair.

"I'm not nervous," Hermione said indignantly.

"Hermione, I've known you for years. When you're nervous, you shake your left leg," Ginny said.

Hermione instantly stopped shaking her leg and began picking at her fingernails. "It has nothing to do with George," she said.

"It has everything to do with George!" Ginny laughed, finishing up Hermione's hair.

"Look, you'd better go. He'll be here any second," Hermione said, checking out her hair in the mirror. Ginny stepped away to disapperate but Hermione called her back. "By the way," Hermione said with a smile, "Thanks."

* * *

"Should I have brought flowers? No, no… that would be too much like we are dating. She'll never want to date me anyway, she was just a bit drunk last night," George muttered to himself as he walked up to Hermione's apartment door. Sighing, he whispered, "Here we go!" and knocked three times on the door.

"Coming!" he heard her yell. She opened the door almost shyly and smiled at him as they faced each other in the doorway. They stared at each other silently for a few seconds before Hermione said, "Oh! Come inside!"

George followed her back into the apartment, his hands in his pockets as he watched her slip on her shoes. Books were scattered all over the living room, quills and parchment covering the coffee table. "So, getting some studying done?" George asked.

"Yeah, quite a bit, actually. I have some flash cards to go over for my Abnormal Anatomy exam," she said, picking up her purse and wand.

"Well… I could help you with the flash cards if you'd like. I'm not the best study partner, though. I've never studied for longer than five minutes unless it had something to do with playing a trick on someone," he said, smiling as Hermione laughed.

"I'd be glad to have someone to help me study," she said, surprised that he would even ask.

"Alright, it's settled then," George said, "So, what sounds good for lunch?"

"Actually, I've been wanting another one of those sandwiches from Rupert's. Would that be okay?" she asked sheepishly.

"Of course," George smiled, disapperating with a pop.

* * *

"So… how do we get started?" George asked, sitting somewhat uncomfortably on Hermione's couch. It was hard to try to be serious with her after all of the silly memories that they had discussed over lunch, and he was still kind of giddy from the accidental/non-accidental leg brush that they had shared.

"Well, here are the flash cards. All you have to do is hold up the card, I will say the answer, and you will look on the back to see if I am correct," she said, plopping down on the couch.

"Do you get some kind of prize at the end? Like a house elf singing or anything like that?" George joked, looking at the huge stack of cards.

"Well, no… I normally don't get a prize," she said, tilting her head in thought.

"I'll tell you what… if you get all of these correct, I'll do whatever you want for a whole hour," George said, assuming that no one, not even Hermione Granger, could get all of the flash cards correct on the first go around.

They began their studying facing each other, sitting Indian style on the couch, a bottle of butterbeer for each of them sitting on the coffee table. "Extra eyes, extra noses," George read.

"All symptoms of a poorly performed bat-bogey hex," Hermione recited. George began a stack of "rights" and "wrongs" on the coffee table and flipped up the next card.

"A circular green mark on the head," George said.

"A side effect of pepper up potion in those who are allergic to shellfish," Hermione recited again perfectly.

An hour went by, the "rights" stack in danger of falling over and the "wrongs" stack empty. Hermione's heart was racing as they got down to the last 25 cards. She was trying very hard not to lose, but she was so anxious about winning that she almost hoped for a card that would stump her.

One card left.

"Two left feet," George said.

"A couple of possibilities… splinching during side-along apparition, transfiguration mishap, or a tainted batch of the potion Bailais," Hermione said hurriedly.

Last card.

"Blue tinged fingernail beds," George read.

A wave of panic struck Hermione as she drew a blank. George leaned forward, his foot now touching hers. Her heart pounded in her ears. _That's it! Heart!_ She though.

"Sign of decreased cardiac and pulmonary function in witches and wizards," she said, smiling.

George sat silently for a moment and then shook his head, placing the final card on the "rights" pile. "I don't believe it," he whispered and then laughed, "Okay, what's my first task. I'm yours for exactly one hour."

"Oh George, you don't have to do that!" she said, standing up from the couch to collect their empty butterbeer bottles.

"No, a promise is a promise," he said, also standing and taking the bottles from her to carry them into the kitchen for disposal. She regarded him reluctantly until he said, "Back massage? Foot massage?" He read her subtle body language indicating that a back massage would be much appreciated, "Okay, back massage for starters."

He led her back to the couch, sitting her down beside him so that when they both turned to the left, she would be in front of him. His hands shook as he waited for her to get situated, the shaking subsiding when he placed his hands on her shoulders. She was tense. As he began to knead her shoulders with his fingers, she relaxed and whispered, "That feels sooooo good," before she could stop herself.

She was horrified for a second before George leaned forward and whispered in reply, "I'm glad you like it. Why are you so tense? Is it me?"

"I don't know," she whispered back, her eyes closing. She hadn't been sleeping well…

"Well, there's no reason to be tense around me," he said, working his way down her back. He could feel her starting to become drowsy as his fingers ran over the soft cotton of the polo shirt that she was wearing, and his heart pounded so loudly that he was sure that she could hear it.

She leaned her head against the back of the couch and yawned. "I'm so tired. I've been studying too much," she said through another yawn.

"Do you want to take a nap?" George whispered, leaning in to better hear her as she mumbled, noticing for the first time the dark circles under her eyes.

"I don't want to waste my hour," she said, turning around to smile at him, their faces the closest that they had ever been.

He felt his heart melt a little and smiled back at her. "Don't worry," he said, his right arm now wrapped around her shoulders since she had turned around while he was massaging her back, "I can stop the clock for now. You seem very tired, so you should really get some rest."

"Maybe," she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eye. Pausing for a second, she then continued, "Are you going to stay?"

Before he could answer, she had laid her head on his chest. He was sure that his pounding heart would either wake her up from the sound or beat her awake as it tried to jump out of his chest, but apparently she was a heavy sleeper. George wrapped both arms around her and leaned back against the arm rest, getting ready to take his own nap.

To be continued…


End file.
